


Snow Angels

by queststar



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Memories, Established Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, F/F, Fluff and Angst, POV Emma, Short One Shot, Snow Day, Swan Queen - Freeform, Swan-Mills Family (Once Upon a Time), Swan-Mills Family Fluff (Once Upon a Time), swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queststar/pseuds/queststar
Summary: When the first snow falls, Regina Mills gets cranky. Emma wants to figure out why.Established SwanQueen one shot.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 125





	Snow Angels

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure about this one, but it just needed to get out, I guess :)

“Wake up. Wake  _ up.” _

There’s a constricted noise coming from below the duvet as Emma shakes her wife lightly. “I swear to God, Emma, if this isn’t a life-threatening situation-”, comes a muffled, annoyed sound from somewhere near the pillow. 

Emma is not put off. Regina went to bed cranky yesterday evening and she couldn’t figure out why because Regina refused to talk about it. It had started somewhere between the arrival of the first snowflakes and Henry’s hopeful question of whether there would be enough to play around with when he would wake up the next day. 

He woke Emma up this morning with a squeal and sensing that Regina wasn’t ready to get up yet (funny, because normally Regina was the first to get up), Emma took him downstairs and prepared breakfast for the both of them.

The boy could hardly be contained and if Emma is honest, she doesn't mind it at all. She’s currently as excited as a puppy. So she sent him off to pull on his boots and coat, and she dashed upstairs to check if Regina was ready to surface yet.   
  
“It snowed a lot!” Emma laughs brightly at the lump under the duvet. “Henry and I are going outside and you should definitely join us!” For as long as Emma can remember, the first thick layer of snow has always excited her. It’s probably because snow is for everyone - it doesn’t matter how rich or poor you are, it’s free. And it’s extra special when you are the first one to place your footsteps in an untouched batch of snow -- it’s magical. She feels giddy, excited, and bounces on the balls of her feet. 

But Regina hides deeper in her bed as a response. Emma shakes her head, suppressing a snort. It’s the weekend so technically, Regina doesn’t  _ have _ to get up but she wants to share this moment with Regina. She wants to tell her all about her memories, wants to get in a snowball fight with her family, wants to make snow angels, wants to- she snickers, squats down next to the bed, and lifts a corner of the duvet. “Do you wanna build a-”   
  
“I swear to god, Emma, if you say snowman, I’ll open a portal and throw you head-first into Arendelle before you can say ‘Elsa’,” Regina suddenly snaps as she violently throws the duvet off of her and startled, Emma squawks, falls backward and lands on her ass.    
  
“Jesus, Regina, what the hell?” Emma cries out, confused, rubbing her sore behind. “What's going on? You’ve been acting all grouchy since yesterday evening!” 

“Take Henry outside and leave me alone,” Regina growls, pulling the duvet closer around her body again, glaring at the window. But Emma is agitated now, quickly goes over the things she had said this morning and yesterday - maybe she did or said something that set Regina off? It wouldn’t be the first time, but Regina would usually get back to it after she’d churned on it for a little while. Surely the Frozen-reference was tacky, but that should not lead to the exaggerated response she’d just received. And right now, she doesn’t want to wait until Regina is ready to talk about it.

“No, I want you to tell me why-”

“Moms?” Henry bounces inside, his grey-and-red scarf wrapped around his neck, mittens on, and a cute hat on his head. He beams at both of them. “Are you ready? Come  _ on _ , I want to be the first in the fresh snow!”   
  
Regina straightens her back, clutches the duvet tight with one hand, strokes the hair out of her face with the other. “You go with Emma, sweetheart,” she says with a smile (it’s forced, Emma sees, but fortunately, Henry doesn’t notice). “She’s ready. I’ve got some work to do, but I’ll bring you hot chocolate later, all right?”

There’s a flash of disappointment on his face, but he clears up right after. “Sure!” Henry says chipperly, and takes Emma’s hand, dragging her off to the door. Emma turns her head, narrows her eyes at Regina, silently telling her that this conversation is not over yet, and Regina shoots daggers back with hers. She has no clue what has set her wife off, but she’ll be damned if she’s not going to figure it out.

Unfortunately for Emma, Regina is a mastermind in avoiding being together alone with her. Regina’s mood has improved somewhat, albeit shallowly, whenever she brings them snacks or drinks, but every time Emma lingers behind when Henry dashes off again, Regina shoots her a small smile and disappears into the house. It’s frustratingly annoying. Emma thinks, but she’s like a dog with a bone and won’t let this go until she finds out. 

In the meantime, Emma and Henry are trying to build the biggest snowman (if Regina doesn’t want to, then she and Henry definitely will), build snow forts and as they start a snowball fight, they are soon joined by other kids in the neighborhood. 

They come in a little while later, faces red from the cold, and covered in snow, melting all over the marble floors of the hall and Emma looks up as she hears Regina’s heels click-clacking closer towards them. Emma’s back tenses a little and she cringes upon seeing all the meltwater. It’s nothing that can be helped right now, but Regina’s a flat-out control and neat freak, and she’s already cranky enough as it is today. But her wife just looks at them dripping all over the floor, wrinkles her nose, lifts her gaze to meet Emma’s, and sends her a terse smile. “You better get out of those cold clothes and get warm. And clean that up.” And she disappears into the kitchen to prepare coffee and hot cocoa for them both.

Henry’s the first to be back in the kitchen - Emma helped him out of his wet clothes and put him under a short warm shower before she went for clean clothes herself. After, she dutifully mops up the melted water on the floor down the hall. When she finally arrives at the kitchen, she hears Henry’s bright voice, asking worriedly, “Mom, are you mad at Ma?”

“Why do you ask that?” There’s a hint of surprise in Regina’s voice, just before she looks up and sees Emma standing on the threshold. There’s remorse written on her face. 

“I heard you yelling this morning. And you’re being weird today,” Henry points out. “Did she do something?”

“I am not angry with your Ma,” Regina says softly, eyes flicking between her son and Emma. Emma comes closer, hears the words, and sees how true they are - her lie detector doesn’t ping. There’s a hint of relief settling in her stomach. “I just… didn’t sleep very well,” Regina reluctantly adds. Now, that’s a lie written all across her face. Regina knows that Emma knows, but Regina shakes her head at her wife. Now is not the time. Emma clenches her teeth together, holding Regina’s gaze. Regina is a little stressed, Emma realizes to her surprise. The anxiety is cleverly hidden in her brown eyes, but it’s there. It confuses the blonde even more.

When Henry sees Emma, they start talking about their snowman and their awesome snowball fight - Emma admits, the best part of having a kid is pretending you can be one, as well, and it makes him super-happy in the process. A definite win-win. “Can we go outside again?” Henry asks.

“After lunch,” Regina promises him. 

“Will you come with us?” he eagerly wants to know. But Regina shakes her head. 

“No, sweetheart. I… don’t like the cold that much. But you and Emma go and have fun, all right?”

His shoulders sag and really, Emma thinks, that’s the lamest reason ever and a blatant lie. She glares at Regina, but the brunette looks away.

However, plans change when heavy snowfall sets in, forcing them to stay indoors. Henry’s not really liking it and pouts immensely until Emma points out that there’ll be a whole fresh layer for them tomorrow so they can start all over again. Regina allows them a couple of extra hours of gaming and even indulges them in participating in a couple of rounds of Mario Kart. She gloriously beats Emma (“I know your driving skills, dear - they’re basically the same online and offline so I could easily anticipate,” she mocks her after her third victory and it’s almost like there’s nothing going on anymore). 

But Regina is still tense, and her back goes rigid every time her eyes catch the falling snowflakes outside. It’s like the snow does something to her, Emma muses. It definitely has something to do with the snow, but she just can’t figure out what. 

One time, Emma catches her in front of a window, staring outside, deeply sunk in thought. Emma calls her name but when she doesn’t get any response, she lightly touches Regina’s shoulder, which nearly makes Regina jump. 

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she snaps, and Emma glares at her. Apparently, they’re back to where they were this morning.

“Fuck, Regina, I called your name. You were lost in thought. What the hell is going on with you today? And don’t give me that ‘I slept badly’ crap because I know that is a lie.” Emma’s face pulls in a frown and she wraps her arms in front of her chest, waiting for an answer. 

Regina narrows her eyes momentarily, but then, suddenly her shoulders sag. There’s a look of dejection, of powerlessness in Regina’s eyes that Emma can’t place - she hasn’t seen it for a long time. “Tell me,” she urges, her voice softer now, squeezing Regina’s shoulder in encouragement. “Let me help you.” For a moment, Regina seems to accept that she needs to tell Emma, but of course, Henry, with his ever bad timing, picks exactly that moment to enter the living room.    
  
“I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”

So they go through the motions of feeding their son (honestly, Emma doesn’t know where he stores everything that he shovels into his mouth and she exclaims loudly that she’s never been that bad, which gives her pointed glares of both her son and her wife in the process), watching a movie together (“Why are there still witches and wizards left standing in a war while they just could’ve used that death spell and get it over with?” Regina is not a fan of Harry Potter) and eventually, they bring their son to bed together.

Afterward, Regina slips into the kitchen in a halfhearted attempt to avoid Emma, but Emma isn’t letting her get away with this. “Spill it, Regina,” she says sternly. “What’s bothering you?”

Regina’s eyes flick through the room for a moment - is she really plotting her escape? - before she sighs, subdued, and her shoulders sag. “I’m sorry,” Regina mutters, “The first snow always does this to me. It reminds me of my childhood and… and my mother. I'm usually fine once that first day has passed.” She lifts her gaze, holds Emma's, wariness evident in her eyes as if she's waiting for Emma to laugh at the silliness of getting cranky about snow. The real stuff, not Emma's mother carrying the name (oh, the irony, Emma thinks, but she doesn't say it out loud).

Emma doesn't laugh but instead, wrinkles her nose, closes the distance between them. Stories of Regina’s childhood including Cora Mills are never tales that have a happy ending, and her heart aches for her wife. “Tell me,” she says, gently touching her shoulder and to her surprise, Regina takes her hand in both of her own and squeezes it. The connection makes Emma relax a little, which in turn seems to be exactly what Regina needs to start talking about her memory. "It's not the first snow on itself, but more... of what it represents, I suppose," the brunette reluctantly starts, "or a combination of both. I am not entirely sure."

She sighs. “When I grew up, everything was a competition - and I competed against myself, mostly. Mother made me; said I should always strive for perfection.” She smiles wryly. “Everything I did, it had to be to the best of my abilities. Mother was relentless. You have to know, in the part of the Enchanted Forest where we were living it could get cold, but there wasn’t a lot of snow very often. The first time we had a decent layer of it which I can vividly remember, I was a little younger than Henry’s now. I was so happy,” Regina smiled at the memory, eyes glassy and soft with this part of her recollection, “So I threw the door open without even getting my boots on, threw myself in a thick layer of snow, and made a snow angel.” Her hands let go of Emma’s and wrap around herself as her face falls. Emma moves a little closer, lifts her hand to gently brush through Regina’s hair, pushes it behind her ear. She wants to envelop her in a tight hug to make it easier but she knows Regina needs to get this out. 

“When I got up, my clothes were covered in snow, as were my socks. And in order to stand, I had to dig my elbows into the angelwings and plant my foot in it, too, inexplicably ruining it. I felt sad about that, so Mother told me to make one again. I was cold, and the snow on my clothes and socks started to melt, but sure, I could do it again. I had loved making the first.”

She sighs and shivers. Emma’s free arm slides around her waist and Regina automatically leans into the embrace. When Emma nudges Regina’s neck with her nose to go on, she feels how cold Regina is. “I ruined them all. All of them had dents of elbows or shuffled feet. Mother made me do three more. ‘Try harder to make a perfect one, dear,’ she said, but I was cold and didn’t want to anymore. My feet were frozen and my clothes were wet. Daddy wanted to give me my coat and shoes, at least, but Mother wouldn’t let him. ‘Always strive for perfection, in anything you do, because you never know who might be watching,’ she said. She turned it into one of her lessons. I remember crying, and the hot tears seemed to burn my cold face, but Mother never had much patience for that. She pushed me to do more. I hated myself for failing, for being unable to live up to her expectations. And after she was finally satisfied with my ninth attempt, my arms and legs were numb and I had a hard time warming up. Hypothermia,” Regina explained, her voice void of emotion but shivers running over her back at the memory. Emma gently rubs her sides. “I was sick for a whole week. I never liked the first snowfall after and always made sure to stay as far away from Mother whenever it snowed in general. She never pushed me to do it again, but she would always have this look on her face. I sometimes believe she didn’t want to indulge in frivolities like… well.” She scoffs. “Having fun in general.”

If Cora hadn’t been dead already, Emma thought grimly, she’d have volunteered to strangle the woman with her bare hands. “Your mother really was a piece of work,” Emma murmurs, pulling Regina close, casting her murderous thoughts aside. Her wife has come a long way, but there are many unspoken traumas that sometimes come up unexpectedly because of a trigger nobody sees coming. “All the while she could’ve just easily assisted you in making the perfect snow angel.”

Regina scoffs. “My mother, assisting? She’d never do anything unless it was helping her move forward in order to reach her own goals.” The bitterness and hurt on Regina’s face make Emma want to scoop her up and carry her away, to protect her from the hurt she’s feeling. But there is a hint of curiosity in Regina’s eyes, followed with a guarded look. “I’m probably going to regret this, but how do you suggest she could’ve helped?” 

Emma smiles, nuzzles Regina’s nose with her own. Maybe, just maybe this is going to be easier than she thought it would be. Instead of giving a straight answer, she presses a soft kiss on her wife’s lips. “I have an idea. But for that, we have to go outside. Are you up for that?” 

“I don’t know.” Regina tilts her head a little, insecurity and a little wariness written over her features, a frown forming on her forehead when her brown eyes catch Emma’s. 

“Give me a chance.” Emma waits, slightly impatient bouncing on the balls of her foot until Regina sighs and nods only once. Emma feels a surge of excitement running through her. She gently coaxes her slightly unwilling wife to the hallway, gives her her coat, winter boots, and gloves, before putting on her own. She knows Regina is anxious, she can see it in the jerky movements of her hands and head, the way her eyes are shifting. And she wishes she could take it away with only words, but she knows she can’t. 

She tries anyway. “I promise you don’t have to go into the snow. You just have to stand on the porch,” she smiles as Regina’s brow furrows, while reluctantly closing her coat. “I’ll do the hard stuff. You just have to… lend me a hand, in the end.” She takes Regina’s hand and leads her to the door. Regina is struggling internally, so Emma waits with opening the door. “Trust me,” Emma says softly, catching Regina’s wandering eyes, touching her cheek softly with her free hand. Regina’s eyes close and she sighs lightly, briefly leaning into the embrace. 

“Okay,” she whispers, and she opens her eyes again, letting go of Emma’s hand to slip her gloves on. Her gloved hands immediately lace together on her stomach. Curiosity wins from anxiety.

When they open the door, they see that it’s still snowing lightly again. “Okay. Here’s what I’m going to do. You’ll stay here on the porch, and I will dive into the snow, okay?” 

“Go ahead,” Regina nods, tilting her head. Emma walks away from her, backward until her feet get stuck in the snow and she stumbles. She yelps. And then, she falls flat on her back in the snow.

“Emma!” Regina cries out startled, surging forward.

“No, stop, it’s fine!” Emma calls out, and Regina complies immediately. Emma lies flat on her back, starts to move her arms up and down, her legs to the side and back. She grins when the movements are smoothing out, which means the snow angel is almost done and laughs when the tiny snowflakes enter her nose - it makes her sneeze. She forgot her hat, so the snow stuck to her head melts fast and yes, it’s cold. Time to get out.

“Okay! Now, I need your help.” Emma lifts her head. Regina stands a little away from her, eyebrows raised. The light snow is sticking to her coat and hair - she’s gotten out from under the porch, arms still folded but head slightly tilted. Emma smiles. “Poof me to you.”

“What?” Regina blinks, confused.

“Poof me. Teleport me. Transport me. Whatever you want to call it. Get me out of here,” Emma laughs at Regina’s bewilderment.

Regina blinks as the realization slowly dawns on her, and even though she expects it, Emma squeaks when she’s enveloped in purple smoke, materializing next to Regina, almost stumbling over as she tries to regain her balance. She grabs Regina’s upper arm to stay upright, internally grumbling that she’ll never get used to this mode of transportation.

She beams up at Regina, but her heart sinks as she sees tears brimming in her eyes and anger radiating off her face. “Regina-”   
  
“All this fucking time,” she says quietly, face tightly pulled in a furious frown and the vein on her forehead pulsing because of her anxiety. Her voice chokes. Emma swallows away a thickness in her throat, her heart squeezes painfully. Has she underestimated this particular traumatic event? Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed. Maybe her excitement of helping Regina and getting out in the snow got the better of her.

“I’m sorry,” she says guiltily, “I didn’t want to-”

“Don’t apologize. I’m not angry with you. It’s just…” A shiver runs through Regina’s body. “All these years I hated this day because of what it represented. Failure to please my mother. All I wanted was to make her happy but I never truly did. This is one of many events in which I felt like a failure because I should’ve done better and I’ve beaten myself up over it countless times. She told me it was for my own good. But it was never good enough.” Her teeth are clenched together now, anger radiating off of her in waves. “She wanted me to be alone. To get the feeling that I needed to be strong because I was the only one who I could rely on - apart from her. I could trust nobody but myself.” A tear escapes her eye, and she wipes it away with an impatient gesture.

“She was wrong,” Emma says softly, her heart aching for her wife. Her hand travels from Regina’s arm to her shoulder, fingers gently brushing Regina’s cheek. “You’re always stronger together. I mean,  _ we _ are stronger together.”

There’s a short pause before Regina deflates, sighs deeply, and leans into Emma’s fingers caressing her cheek. Her eyes flutter close, causing two more tears to run over her cheek. Emma takes it as an invitation to wrap her other arm around Regina as well. She pulls her close, kisses Regina’s tears away gently. “Your mother was an asshole,” she murmurs, pushing her nose in Regina’s soft hair, and she inhales deeply. Regina chokes out a half-laugh, half-sob in the crook of Emma’s neck. “And she had no idea what you are capable of when you work together. Maybe because she never knew. I mean, look.” She waves a hand at the perfect snow angel. “I can’t believe you hadn’t thought of this before. And this is only a small thing. We’ve accomplished so much together already. I mean,” she adds, pulling back a little, “We’ve moved the fucking  _ moon _ together, didn’t we?”

"That, we did," Regina nods with a wobbly voice, red-rimmed eyes blinking swiftly to prevent more tears from forming. “I guess I’ve been too busy hating this day in order to think about that.” Regina sighs, turning her head to watch the snow angel. Emma watches her intently, sees the tentative longing on her eyes.

“You want to try it?” Emma hums against Regina’s ear.

There’s a silent hesitation. But then, Regina gently breaks the embrace and steps aside. “Yes.” Regina turns her head, her warm brown eyes lock with Emma’s, holding out her hand. “Together.”

A warmth settles in Emma’s heart, expanding until her entire chest feels full with pride and love and  _ Regina _ . She grabs Regina’s offered hand and lets Regina take the lead to a fresh batch of snow. It’s important that Regina leads, Emma believes, to shake the remnants of a bad memory. You can’t change the past, but you can definitely influence your future. Fate be damned. 

Regina stops walking, and Emma, still holding Regina’s hand, steps away from her. She lifts her free arm at shoulder height, gazes questioning at Regina, who inhales and lifts her own arms. Emma grins at her.

“One, two, three,” Emma says, and they fall backward in the thick layer of fresh snow. Emma enthusiastically starts to move her arms and legs before she notices that Regina lies still. As if she's getting used to the feeling of the softness she just fell into. Emma reaches out, touches Regina's fingers and that seems to jumpstart the brunette. Slowly, her arms and legs start to move and Emma joins her, laughs at how dedicated Regina is to this snow angel. And then, Regina’s movements still, and she reaches out for Emma’s hand. The moment their fingers touch, the purple cloud surrounds them and they reappear on the path leading up to the house. And as the colored wisps vanish, they look at their two snow angels, joined at the wings. 

Regina laughs freely and it’s the most beautiful sound Emma has ever heard. The brunette turns, places her cold hands against Emma’s cheeks, and pulls her in for a kiss. Emma gasps in surprise and gladly accepts the thank-you peck, and when Regina withdraws a little, Emma catches her gaze. There’s so much wonder and happiness in those warm brown eyes now, it makes Emma's heart overflow with warmth, and she sighs happily. “So,” she murmurs against Regina’s lips, a lopsided smile tugging at her mouth and she just can't help herself, “ _ Now _ do you want to build a snowman?”

And she shrieks while a heap of snow magically appears above her head and falls down on her head. Regina smirks. “I can turn you into one if you don’t stop this poor Anna imitation.”

“No fair, that’s cheating,” Emma pouts, but her eyes shimmer. “Are you okay, though?” she inquires, because she just wants to make sure.

“Yes. Better than I’ve been for a long time on this day.” Regina smiles at her, the light snowflakes getting stuck on her coat. Emma gently brushes them off.

That’s good,” she says, so happy that she was able to help her wife. “Now, let’s get inside and warm up - preferably under a hot shower.. together?”

“Oh, I’m not saying no to that,” Regina purrs, a smirk full of promises on her face. 

And Emma is not saying no to those promises, either.


End file.
